Eventually the chance presented itself and, what do you know; now I actually do a few Charleston steps! Haven’t fallen into any swimming pools or taken home any loving cups lately but there’s still time. So, my gift to you on the 11th day of Christmas is the wish that all your dance-floor spills land you in the middle of a magical bit of moonlight strolling and maybe the love of your life. Now sing along with me, “Buffalo gal won’t you come out tonight, come out tonight, come out tonight…”
Friday, December 14, 2012
The 11th Day of Christmas...
Oh yea, oh yea it’s the big Charleston contest and the 11th day of Christmas. It’s a Wonderful Life, love or hate it, is a staple of the yuletide season and this year Kelly and I went to The Artcraft Theatre in Franklin, IN to see a screening of Capra’s 1946 tale of the long-suffering George Bailey. It’s a Wonderful Life is one of the movies responsible for my desire to dance. I remember many a Christmas time sitting home and watching the Charleston contest scene and thinking, gee it must have been great back when people did that sort of thing…
Eventually the chance presented itself and, what do you know; now I actually do a few Charleston steps! Haven’t fallen into any swimming pools or taken home any loving cups lately but there’s still time. So, my gift to you on the 11th day of Christmas is the wish that all your dance-floor spills land you in the middle of a magical bit of moonlight strolling and maybe the love of your life. Now sing along with me, “Buffalo gal won’t you come out tonight, come out tonight, come out tonight…”
Eventually the chance presented itself and, what do you know; now I actually do a few Charleston steps! Haven’t fallen into any swimming pools or taken home any loving cups lately but there’s still time. So, my gift to you on the 11th day of Christmas is the wish that all your dance-floor spills land you in the middle of a magical bit of moonlight strolling and maybe the love of your life. Now sing along with me, “Buffalo gal won’t you come out tonight, come out tonight, come out tonight…”
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Twelve Days and Counting...
Ah, twelve days ‘till Christmas kiddies, are your stockings hung by the central-heating unit with care? It’s been a fine year of dancing and I have to say I’m lucky that my dear wife Kelly has been good enough for the both of us – otherwise I’d have a sock-full of the black stuff this holiday!
See, I’ve been a bad boy. I’ve forsaken my sworn duty to write my little missives for Blue Suede Souls this year. Blame it on changing jobs, blame it on computer viruses, blame it on the rain if you like…whatever the case, I’ve been remiss and I’m sorry.
So, to make it up to you I’m doing a little shopping – twelve gifts to you, one a day for twelve days culminating in the Jolly Old Elf’s big day. Yes, I know that the real twelve days of Christmas actually start on the 25th and run through January 5th, but by then all you’ll want to do is clean up the blasted wrapping paper and not hear another carol until next December. I figured it’s best to strike while enthusiasm is high, the eggnog spiked, and those sugarplums still doing their nightly jig.
My first gift to you, my friends, the soft glow of vacuum tubes and the mellow tones of the Henry Hall Dance Orchestra bringing you a Christmas broadcast from 1932. Enjoy, oh and just put the wrapping paper in the big bag by the tree if you don’t mind…
See, I’ve been a bad boy. I’ve forsaken my sworn duty to write my little missives for Blue Suede Souls this year. Blame it on changing jobs, blame it on computer viruses, blame it on the rain if you like…whatever the case, I’ve been remiss and I’m sorry.
So, to make it up to you I’m doing a little shopping – twelve gifts to you, one a day for twelve days culminating in the Jolly Old Elf’s big day. Yes, I know that the real twelve days of Christmas actually start on the 25th and run through January 5th, but by then all you’ll want to do is clean up the blasted wrapping paper and not hear another carol until next December. I figured it’s best to strike while enthusiasm is high, the eggnog spiked, and those sugarplums still doing their nightly jig.
My first gift to you, my friends, the soft glow of vacuum tubes and the mellow tones of the Henry Hall Dance Orchestra bringing you a Christmas broadcast from 1932. Enjoy, oh and just put the wrapping paper in the big bag by the tree if you don’t mind…
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Monday, November 5, 2012
Scandalous!
This is our
national season of discontent. Election time is a time of bitter partisanship, a
time of sniping, innuendo, bitterness, suspicion, and vitriol. Yes, the facts
that on Tuesday, November 6th, 2012 Americans will go to the polls, cast their
vote, and go home without fear for their safety and without fear that the
country will fall into anarchy based on the outcome of the national election.
Regardless of your personal misgivings, there will be no tanks in the streets,
barricades of burning tires, or rock-throwing protesters in the streets. We’ll
all go on and in a month the politics will die in the dust and we’ll go back to
our lives and personal issues.
Many times I seek
refuge on the dance floor. It’s a safe place, a fantasy zone where all is music,
harmony, and the one I love. In an ideal world the dance floor is about order,
it is a universe in miniature, orbits within orbits. In reality, though, the
dance floor is much more like the real world.. There are dancers who do the West
Coast Swing to a samba, those who do a travelling dance while most people are
doing a slot dance, and those to whom the beat is just a suggestion to be
ignored as they see fit. To those who would say the electoral temperature and
disharmony on the dance floor are both symptoms of the unraveling of society, I
offer two tidbits:
The election of
1828 pit Andrew Jackson, a man famed for his temper who had participated in
several duels, against John Quincy Adams, a man falsely accused of playing pimp
to the Russian czar and misappropriating government funds for the purchase of a
pool table. The conflict between the two candidates became so heated that, after
arriving in Washington for his inauguration, Jackson refused to pay the
customary courtesy call on the outgoing president. And John Quincy Adams
reciprocated by refusing to attend the inauguration of Jackson.
The waltz was
introduced to England sometime between 1790 and 1812 and was brought to France
when Napoleon’s triumphal soldiers returned from Germany in 1805. As the first
closed position dance done by aristocracy, the waltz gained a scandalous
reputation. After all, dancers actually embraced, holding each other so close
their bodies and even faces touched while they danced. Women were thrown around
exuberantly, something considered immoral and even sinful at the time. In
England, Anglican archbishops denounced the waltz as “a lust-inducing, decidedly
degenerate action to be left to those hot-blooded, silly foreigners.”
So what should a
level-headed person make of these examples. Maybe that the good old days weren’t
always all that good and that today’s “scandal” will be tomorrow’s humorous
footnote, For me it simply means that this Tuesday, after I’ve cast my vote I’ll
step onto the dance floor and I’ll try to appreciate the ordered chaos that is
dancing and our nation and simply marvel at the fact both continue unscathed in
spite of all the so-called experts’ predictions of perdition and woe.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Halloween 2012
We didn't do anything special this year for Halloween, but then, every Halloween is special, especially when you're dancing. :-) Here we are at our two local dances, the first at Indy Singles ( we went as space people),
the second is at Indy Dancers of our favorite costume.
On to more holiday dances!!!!!!
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Dancing: The Long Haul
The old gray mare, she ain't what she used to be,
Ain't what she used to be, ain't what she used to be.
The old gray mare, she ain't what she used to be,
Many long years ago.
You know that one? My mom used to sing it to me when I was a baby.
It happens to us all, getting older. In general I’m OK with it…you kind of have to be, right? We all have things that bother us as the years pass. My biggest challenge is losing physicality; I’ve been athletic all my life.
A few weeks ago Gary and I watched a young couple do the Lindy Hop the way we want to do it…lots of moves that involve hanging from arms and lunges that require low knee bends. These are out for us…I have shoulder problems and Gary’s knees are often creaky. Could we still do those moves? Yeah, but we might injure ourselves to the point of never dancing again. Not worth the risk.
What I'm trying to do as I get older is internalizing that although there are some things that go away, other things are gained. So... there are a million moves I can't do, but there are a million moves I CAN, such as focusing on techniques a younger version of me wouldn’t have had the patience to learn, like Argentina tango flicks and kicks.
After the young couple danced I went over to their table and told them how good they were and how much we enjoyed watching them dance. The man looked at me with wide eyes and said really? We loved watching YOU, you guys are fabulous.
So there you are. Acknowledge the past, appreciate it in others, but always remember to be the best you can be…right now.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
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